


Q & A

by Geonn



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maura is bad at making small-talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Q & A

"How do you masturbate?"

Jane nearly choked on her beer. She pressed her hand to her lips to keep from spitting it out, forcing herself to swallow before she pivoted her head to look at Maura. She was sitting on the opposite side of the booth, turned sideways with her legs stretched out on the seat like Jane was sitting. Sometimes Maura seemed like a kid sister, always mimicking Jane in an attempt to look cool. Jane was honored by it and tried very hard not to steer Maura wrong.

She managed to get her mouthful down without spitting or choking. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Methodology, technique, that sort of thing." Maura had her elbow on the table, her fingers splayed in front of her face as she examined it. "When I started, I just used my fingers because I didn't have any other choice. But then I discovered water pressure in the bath, and I had this four-poster bed and sometimes I would wrap a pillow around the--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, James Blunt. What the hell brought this on?"

Maura folded down three fingers and pointed to her index finger with the other hand. "I banged my finger on the table today and it's still sore. So I was wondering if I would have to resort to using my toys. So I thought there might be an alternate--"

Jane waved off the rest of her explanation. "We're sitting in a bar. A cop bar. Within hearing distance of at least three of our fellow officers."

"I lowered my voice."

"Not enough to talk about..." Jane's voice was barely audible. "...touching yourself."

"Technically I was talking about _you_ touching yourself. But I get your point. And I'm sorry. I won't bring it up in public again."

Jane shook her head. "That implies you might bring it up in private."

"Why can't we talk about it? Everyone does it, unless they're in a relationship. Even then."

"Yeah, regardless. It's something we all just ignore and we don't bring up in polite society. Like the knowledge we're all eventually going to die or the fact we all go to the bathroom." She gestured at Maura. "How many times did you pee today?"

"Seven."

"A normal person wouldn't answer-- seven?"

Maura looked stricken. "I drank a lot of coffee. Is that a lot?"

Jane didn't want to press the issue. "Never mind. Don't ask me how I masturbate, okay?" A waiter walking past the table tripped over the toe of his shoe. Jane glared at him until he made a hasty retreat and then hid her face behind her hand.

"Sorry. I won't ask again." She picked up her beer with one hand, still looking at the left hand.

Jane stared at her for a moment and, against her better judgment, gave in. "Have you tried just using your right hand?" Maura looked at her and tilted her head. "Usually I use my right hand, but sometimes I use my left just to mix things up. I-I call it the clumsy stranger." She took a quick drink of her beer in the hopes it would erase what she'd just said from her memory.

Maura was looking at both hands now. "Huh! That's interesting. So you don't use toys?"

Jane felt like a suspect who had finally cracked. "Sometimes. Vibrators. Dildos. Not a lot. I'm not a big fan of penetration even when someone else is doing it."

"So when you're with a man, you mainly just give hand jobs, fellatio--"

"Can we stick to one mortifying topic, please? And yes, for your information, lips and tongue and five little fingers."

"What about your pleasure?"

Jane wagged her fingers. "I know me best."

"Oh. You should have an orgasm with someone you love."

The same waiter stuttered as he stepped past their table. Jane growled at him. "Do we look like we need refills? Go! Go to the bar." She waved him away and shrank into the booth. "God."

"Do you think he'll masturbate tonight thinking about us?"

"Maura--"

"Just asking."

Jane stared across the bar, the words rolling around in her brain. They bounced around like a ball bearing in a pinball game. It rolled down the back of her skull and, when it reached her mouth, she didn't hit the flippers fast enough to rocket it back to the far recesses of her mind.

"Do you? Ever? Think about... you know, me?"

"Uh-huh."

Jane felt her face immediately redden. She blinked rapidly and looked at her beer. There was not enough in the bottle, not enough in the bar, for what she was thinking now. Because she was imagining Maura Isles, in bed - a deep South type four poster bed in a plantation house, wearing one of those high-collared nightgowns that covered more than most people's street clothes. Her hair was feathered out on either side of her head on the pillow and she was using her hand between her legs.

"Do you think about me?"

"No." Jane's voice was almost a croak."

"Because I'm not attractive or just because I'm a woman?"

Jane had to admit the truth. "Just because you're a woman." Maura beamed. "Yes, you're very attractive, Maura." She looked, but the waiter had taken the hint and didn't overhear that.

"I think you're attractive, too, Jane."

Jane smirked. "So I do it for you? I get you off?"

"Every time, without fail."

Jane was inordinately pleased by that. She took a victory swig of her drink and said, "Well, since you got an injured paw, maybe having the real thing there with you would help."

"Would you do that for me?"

Jane looked at her beer bottle. Maybe there was enough beer in there after all. She drank it all to find out and then nodded. "Yeah. I would."

#

"That stranger wasn't very clumsy."

"It's not my fault you're ambidextrous."

They were lying side by side on the floor of Maura's living room. Maura's shirt was unbuttoned to reveal her bra, her chest and stomach beaded with sweat. Jane was topless, but she had one hand draped across her breasts. Maura's skirt was like a wilted flower around her waist, and Jane's pants were unbuttoned and unzipped. They were both barefoot. They were lying far enough away that they weren't touching.

Maura sat up and rearranged her skirt, pulling the two halves of her blouse together before she looked down at Jane.

"So. That's how you do it when you're alone?"

Jane nodded.

"You said you do it when you're with someone, too. How do you do it then?"

Jane sat up. They were looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, Jane licked her lips and leaned in. Maura met her halfway and they kissed. Jane was hesitant, and Maura was content to let her set the pace. No tongues, just slightly parted lips. Jane pulled away and her face was flush. The alcohol hadn't made her brain fuzzy enough to make this entirely okay, but it had worked just enough to make it happen.

"Let me show you." She took Maura's hand in hers, joining the hands they had just used on themselves, and stood up to guide Maura into the bedroom.


End file.
